


Birth of the Dream Duo

by writerwithideas



Category: Daredevil (Comics), Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Best Friends, Blind Character, College, Family, First Meetings, Friendship, Gen, Roommates, Shock, University
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2020-07-16
Packaged: 2020-09-29 15:01:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 10,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20437970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerwithideas/pseuds/writerwithideas
Summary: Matt and Foggy meet in college, in Colombia University, where this dream duo begin their almost lifelong friendship.Inspired by the flashback during s1 of the Daredevil Netflix Series and shows Matt and Foggy being the friends we all wish we had.Multiple scenes of Matt and Foggy, starting from when they first meet in college.(little reveals of what Matt can "see" to Foggy)Composed of random bits of info from the comic, tv series and movie.This is also my alternate universe when Matt's father didn't die when he was young and Stick's training didn't get into such a serious stage.





	1. Arrival

The bus smelled of dust and foul diesel. Matt sat on a rough seat near the front of the bus, waiting for his stop. His eyes were closed behind his dark glasses, though it wouldn't make a difference if he kept them open. He could smell the strong aroma of perfume from two girls sitting behind him, and could tell from their heartbeats that they were fairly young - about the same age as he was. They had identical voices, both sweeter than their perfume, and they were talking about something to do with a dolphin with wings. Matt smiled, listening in on their conversation, a snicker escaping his lips occasionally as they talked about ridiculous things like teaching their backpacks how to hula-hoop. He was snatched out of his eavesdropping by a hard tap on his left shoulder. "Matty, the next stop's our's, ye better get ready," came the booming voice of Sam, his neighbour, who had volunteered to accompany Matt to college as his dad had a fight to attend to. "Okay Sam," Matt replied, slowly beginning to dig below his chair for his cane, which must have fallen to the floor sometime during the bus ride, "Er, once we're there, you don't have to follow me in, I'll be just fine on my own." He sensed Sam nodding, then heard the hissing of the bus brakes. They had arrived at Colombia University, where Matt would spend the next few years of his life.

* * *

Matt had been dropped off at the door of the place he would be staying for the next few years, left extremely confused. His senses were being overwhelmed by the large space and all the people walking around it that he didn't even realise that he'd been standing in the same spot for about 10 minutes, trying to take everything in. This was the problem of having heightened senses - his brain had no space to put in all the images he was picking up.

The most overpowering smell was fresh paint. Even most people without his abilities were annoyed by the smell, and it was terrible. It had a stale chemical smell mixed in with a thick musty nose feel. Of course, there were other subtle smells of car exhaust and cigarette smoke, but he had gotten used to those things by now. The large reception area on the other side of the door from him was packed with people, their collective voices forming a terrible choir and their echoey footsteps making a great impression of thunder rumbling.

Finally, pushing back all the noise, Matt took a few steps forward, his cane easily finding the door. Inside, he blocked his ears with thought and made his way forward to where he knew the receptionist's desk was. He learned that he was to be living with a certain "Franklin Nelson", which sounded pretty posh to him. Matt just hoped he was fine with the idea of sharing a room with a blind guy. Most people were uncomfortable around him, and especially the receptionist. She was kind, almost a little too kind when she realised Matt was blind, and even offered to escort Matt upstairs. He settled for directions and left with a "thank you".

* * *

On the forth floor, inside a room branded with a piece of paper saying "Matthew Murdock, Franklin Nelson", the said "Franklin Nelson" had just dumped all his personal belongings on the floor of his side of the room and was beginning to regret it. He knew he should start putting everything away, but he knew he'd only finish unpacking in a matter of days. For now, he'd just leave his stuff on the floor until he needed them.

"I hope my roommate doesn't mind", he said to himself. He worried quite a lot about the whole first impression thing, but he thought that his roommate might as well start putting up with his untidy habits right from the beginning.

Still, he looked down at the mess and began the tedious process of separating everything into categorised piles. That is when he heard the knock on the door.


	2. Roomie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt and Foggy's first meeting. Slightly awkward, very funny.

"Come in!"

The door opened with a soft creak, later followed by a tall, muscular-looking boy with red hair. He wore a dark blue sweater, jeans and for some reason, sunglasses even though he was indoors. Foggy got up to welcome him in, suspecting this could be his roommate.

He rushed up to the door, extended his hand and introduced himself in the most humanly ordinary way possible: "Hi, I'm Foggy Nelson. It's nice to meet you."

"I'm Matt Murdock," the boy said, seemingly ignoring Foggy's outstretched hand.

Foggy stood staring awkwardly until he noticed the presence of the cane in Matt's right hand.

"Oh shit! I'm sorry. Are you bl-. Er... I..."

"Yeah, I'm blind, or _visually impaired_ if that's what your asking," Matt said, scrunching up his nose at the use of his two 'favourite' words. After about two seconds of awkward silence, he added "if it makes you feel better, I can't see you so I wouldn't know if you left me talking to the air."

"Er no, I'm still here, and I would like to shake your hand."

Matt stuck out his left hand, trying to find Foggy's, which totally didn't work, as his hand merely hit Foggy's right. Foggy didn't know whether to laugh or be totally serious, so he just switched hands and shook Matt's happily.

"I hope you don't find me too annoying. I'm also quite messy, so our room..." He stopped there, wondering if his new roommate would even notice any of the stuff he had thrown on the floor earlier. However, he didn't want him to trip on his stuff, so he finished "has my stuff all over the floor."

"It's fine. I'm not really much of an observant person." Matt grinned.

Foggy wasn't sure about this guy. He seemed to have a ridiculous sense of humour, and was quite open about his blindness. He just hoped it wouldn't be so awkward between the two of them for their entire rooming time.

Foggy was kind of standing there, but soon noticed Matt making his way across the room, using his cane to trace out objects like the coffee table and couch, then finally finding the door to their bedroom and opening it. He followed him in.

"Which bed's mine?" he asked.

"The one on your right."

Matt dumped his stuff on the bed and turned to face Foggy.

"You mind if you take me on a tour of sorts?", he said, walking towards Foggy, "I want to know where everything is."

Foggy nodded, walking alongside Matt who had already left their bedroom, and was poking around the living room.

* * *

Foggy had just met Matt, but was already intrigued by how he dealt with normal everyday things. During the tour, he noticed how Matt carefully felt around the space in front of him, with the rhythmic tapping of his cane, then upon finding something, he would trace around it slowly, as if memorising its position in the room. He found door handles by moving his cane in a slow arch along a door, and poured water by sticking his finger over the edge of his glass. Multiple times, when Foggy thought Matt was about to bump into something, potentially tripping and busting his face in, he found a clever way to manoeuvre around it.

The only thing that bothered Matt was random items on the floor, such as the mess around Foggy's bed. His cane hit all his stationary out of the way and they scattered everywhere. Foggy muttered an apology and moved his dumping ground onto his bed.

Matt smiled, then apologised for his own clumsiness.

* * *

Matt didn't need the tour. His radar sense could pick up everything in the room just fine. Yet, he couldn't just waltz into the room and plop down on the sofa, grabbing a glass of water while he was at it. He decided he would be able to do that looking less conspicuous if he was shown where everything was, and pretend to be Dora the Blind Explorer while he was at it.

It made it easier to get to know Foggy and his 'warming up to blind person' feelings. While he was feeling around, Foggy was helpfully(kinda) telling him where everything was, if he was going to bump into something, and almost letting loose a laugh when Matt smacked his things all over the place. (Matt did not do that on purpose, he actually didn't know the stuff were there. His radar sense can only do so much) He just needed to clarify one thing that slightly annoyed him - that Foggy was being _too_ helpful, and that he would ask for help when he needed it. He didn't mean to set an uncomfortable mood, but Foggy was quiet after that.

It was then when Foggy's stomach decided to speak up instead, rumbling so loudly Matt swore it could be heard next door.

"Do you wanna go for lunch? I need to check out the canteen sooner or later," Matt asked, trying to pretend he hadn't heard Foggy's stomach complaining.

"Yeah, I'm pretty hungry, but how about we unpack first. I should at least start shoving my things in the cupboard, or I'll have nowhere to sleep tonight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I'm not butchering this series. I just like these two characters' college days very much. It explains how they got so close yet so far in the future, with Matt hiding his secret from Foggy right from the beginning.


	3. Food and Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt and Foggy seem like they have been friends for three years rather than three hours. Nothing like a bit of food to speed up friendship!

"Matt, are you trying to lose me on purpose?"

"Not that I know of."

"Well you walk damn fast, and I'm already tired."

The two roommates were on their way to the canteen, both already smiling and Foggy terribly out of breath. Matt certainly seemed to know the way, despite it being his first day here.

"They showed me around when I got here", he lied.

"Great. I'm just a guy with short legs trying to keep up with the blind guy, who's going unbelievably fast."

Matt noticed Foggy said things like this without his heart rate spiking to almost 110 beats per minute, which was an improvement from when they had first met. The guy really had to keep his heart under control. In that manner of speaking, Matt had to keep is radar sense in control, as in not using it too much. He had to be a little more _blind_. He stopped at the bottom of the stairs leading to the canteen.

"How do you know we're here?"

"Erm. Food smell. Beef burgers?"

"You have a great talent my friend. Can I just ask - does being blind make your other senses better?"

_IT DOES FOR ME, _screamed Matt's brain.

"No," he said, fighting his thoughts back. "It's just a misconception you sighties have. But I do pay more attention to stuff like sound and smell since I can't see anything anyway."

"I guess that makes sense."

_JUST TELL HIM_, Matt's brain shouted in his head.

_NO_, he shouted back. He couldn't tell anyone about his abilities. Not even his friend.

Thinking is good, Matt thought. It made him less aware of his surroundings. He just walked into a table. An annoying table, which had its legs crossed to create a triangle shape at the bottom, which his cane conveniently couldn't find.

"You okay?" Foggy asked.

"Yeah, this is a stupid table."

"Do you want some help?"

"I could use a guide." Matt extended his hand.

Foggy looked confused, then put his hand into Matt's and began walking. Matt exploded with laughter.

"That's not how you guide," he said between strangled laughs, "my hand goes on your arm." Matt shifted his hand up Foggy's arm to rest just above his elbow. "We looked totally gay for a while just now." And they both started laughing.

"So how do I do this?"

"It's easy. All you have to do is walk like you normally do, but just make sure I don't walk into anything. This way, I don't have to use my cane. I'm trusting you, Foggy, and if you walk me into anything, you'll be eating lunch alone."

"Chill, I won't let you trip over the chair that's right in front of you."

"Haha, there's no chair."

"Of course not, but there's the trays and stuff here. We better grab some."

Matt stood waiting, with his eyebrows raised, as Foggy grabbed two of everything and passed a tray to Matt. Then he took Matt's hand (less gayly this time) and guided it around the place.

"Forks here, spoons here, knives here, tray here, napkins here." He knew that Matt was too polite to ask for help, so he figured he'd just give it, especially when not asked. "There are actually beef burgers, you were right."

"Yup, and I'm having one."

Soon, they were seated at a table stuffing their faces with burger.

"We'll need a trip to the gym after this," Matt suggested.

Foggy didn't look too happy. "You go to the gym?"

"Not often, but my dad is a boxer, and I follow him there sometimes."

"I don't think I've ever been to a gym in my life. My parents both want me to be a butcher."

"A butcher? Well at least one of us are listening to our parents' advice. My father wants me to be anything that doesn't involve punching and injuries. I settled for law."

"Hey, me too. This is a weird question, but would you say you're smart?"

"I don't know. No one really says they are smart."

"That's just the modest ones."

"Depends what 'smart' means."

"Smart like intelligent."

"Maybe. Why this random question?"

"I don't know... Well, I may need someone to help me in schoolwork," Foggy admitted.

"That makes the two of us. Let's go back to the room."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, this was a short chapter. The next chapter will be uploaded soon!


	4. Windows to the Soul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The eyes are the windows to the soul. You can tell a lot from someone's eyes. In this fic, Foggy and Matt talk about eyes and Foggy takes a walk in Matt's shoes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Responding to some questions about my writing:
> 
> Matt's dad is still alive in my series, which makes it sort of an AU. I will be writing something referring to Matt's dad in the later chapters.
> 
> Yes, Matt did train with stick but it never went so far as Matt having mental instabilities like many other authors write about. 
> 
> I decided to lean away from emotional Matt and rather the fun college character we saw in the few flashbacks from the Daredevil TV series.
> 
> Also, I decided to change how some of the characters look, which will come up gradually in my later chapters.
> 
> I hope you enjoy my take on this series!

The two boys sat in their room. It was only the first day of the whole semester, and they were both nervous about their freshman year.

"I feel like we should begin reading up on our subjects, or going to the library or something", Matt said.

Foggy rolled his eyes. "But it's our first day. Believe me, during the middle of the semester, you'll be up to your eyeballs in study."

"Well we have nothing to do today, besides getting to know other people, which I'm not keen on doing. So let's just stay here." Matt rubbed his eyes, pushing his dark glasses up to his forehead, where they slid back down again. Matt wasn't very comfortable with showing people his eyes. From what he knew, they were both light blue, one slightly lighter than the other. He could feel the scarring around his eyes with his fingertips, which was quite bad. What annoyed Matt the most was that he could never look anyone in the eye. Firstly because he didn't know where their eyes were, secondly because it was like staring into a dark void, and thirdly because his stupid eyes won't go where he told them to.

He was wondering whether to just _not_ wear his dark glasses in the room until Foggy answered his question for him.

"Sorry to pry, but do you keep your sunglasses on all the time?"

There was a short silence, then Matt slowly took them off and laid them on the bedside table. He kept his face down and his eyes almost closed, turning his head a bit to hide his face.

"I don't really feel comfortable showing my eyes to other people. They look kinda..."

"Normal." Foggy finished. He could tell that Matt was really not up to this 'showing eyes' idea, so he decided that they should talk about it to get it out of the way, and hopefully make Matt feel okay with it in the process.

"They kinda freak people out sometimes. My glasses have come off before, and little kids have screamed."

"Well I think your eyes look fine."

Foggy did not think they looked fine, and was actually a little creeped out when Matt looked up for the first time. With his face out of the shadow, he could see the two light eyes, which were almost white. There was evident scarring around his eyes and around the lower middle of his forehead, where his eyebrows were. Also, his eyes seemed to be looking at something that was really close to his face, yet he was looking at nothing. Matt turned his head away again, and Foggy realised that he'd been quiet for too long. He mentally slapped himself in the face.

When he took his glasses off, Matt knew Foggy was creeped out. His heart rate spiked, and he stared for just over too long. Too late to turn back now. He would be showing his eyes in all their glory, and hopefully still have both of them in his head by the end of it. It was getting a little awkward when none of them said anything, so Matt offered some conversation.

"I was hit by radioactive liquid was I was nine, from this truck which was carrying loads of it. I was trying to save this guy who was crossing the street and almost got hit. Ironically, he was blind, and I guess I'm now blind too." He had a lot of practice explaining this.

"Are you, like, totally blind?"

"Well, nine out of ten blind people actually have some remaining vision left, like some light or shadow perception or something, but I'm that really lucky ten percent, so yeah, I'm totally blind. It's lights out in here." He smiled a bit, though sensing a little pity from Foggy, which quickly evaporated.

"Man, that sucks. It doesn't really seem to affect you, though. You move around like anyone else."

"I'm used to it. Anyone would be, if they were blind for long enough."

"I wouldn't. I'm clumsy as I am now with sight, imagine without!"

"You wanna test it?"

_Silence._

"What?"

"We have a few days to do nothing, so might as well."

"Are you going to blindfold me?"

"Yes, like right now."

"Fine, I guess it'll be some sort of bonding time."

Matt grinned. "Get over here, my soon-to-be blind friend."

* * *

"Close your eyes, and keep your head still for a bit," Matt said as he held the piece of cloth in his right hand while feeling where Foggy's eyes were with his left.

"Please don't poke me in the eye."

"That's why I'm telling you to close them, unless you don't, in which case getting poked in the eye is almost certainly inevitable." Matt tied the cloth tightly at the back of Foggy's head. "Can you see anything?"

"As much as you can," a worried voice replied.

"Great. We'll stay in this room for the time being, mainly because I only have one cane, and there are two blind people now."

Matt stood up from the edge of his bed, reaching for Foggy's hand and guiding it to his elbow.

"For now, I'm the professional. I know my way around our room, so I'll just try not to let you bump into anything. Just keep your hand out just in case."

They made their way into the living room, Foggy clinging desperately onto Matt's elbow and feeling for things that weren't there.

"Trace the wall and get my cane, it should be somewhere here."

Uncertainly, Foggy let go of Matt's elbow, walking slowly along the wall to where he remembered Matt's cane was. When his hand did meet his sought object, he simply knocked it over - "Whoops." Luckily it didn't go too far, and he bent down to pick it up.

"This is already harder than I expected it to be," Foggy grumbled under his breathe.

"You've got it?"

"Yeah, right hand right?"

"Right, now swing it in the direction of the opposite foot. For example, if you're stepping with your left, swing right. Vice versa. I can't check if you're doing it correctly, so just do it. Don't swing it too far outwards."

"Which way do I walk?"

"Towards my voice."

"That's not as easy as it sounds."

"Yeah, that's what I tell everybody."

"Note taken, I won't tell you to walk towards my amazing voice."

"It easy for anyone to follow your voice, Foggy. You're as loud as a steam train."

Foggy laughed a little, still walking very slowly, evidently terrible at the whole 'step right swing left, step left swing right' coordination. Soon, the cane hit something hard, which he recognised as one of the couch legs, from reaching out his hand to feel the couch. Matt, in the mean time, had gone to switch the lights off. They were _too_ noisy for his taste, and now no one was needing it anyway.

"How are you doing?" Matt asked. He could hear his friend panicking very loudly. The taste of sweat was hanging in the air, Foggy being the culprit.

"Pretty okay, I've found some stuff."

"Great! Because we're going outside now. It's all part of the experience. Plus, you've had the luxury of seeing this place beforehand. Let's go."

Matt made his way back to Foggy, where he took his cane back then brought Foggy to the door.

"Trust me."

"I'm about to make a joke," Foggy started.

"If you say anything about the blind leading the blind, I'm going to push you down the stairs. Plus, I think my arm is going to be bruised."

"Sorry," Foggy replied sheepishly, loosening his grip.

"We should be reaching the stairs soon, so I want you to do the honours of finding it." Matt passed his cane to Foggy, then switching positions so he could hold Foggy's left arm. "Remember to tell me when we get there," he added.

They were walking incredibly slowly, then out of nowhere, Foggy jolted to a stop. "We're here... I think... Yeah! Okay."

"There are 12 steps, but you can put the cane vertically in front of you so you can feel when you get to the bottom."

They safely finished that flight, and were now at the landing.

"Turn left, then 12 more steps. I'll let go of you now. I'm holding the railing, so I'll be fine." Foggy heard Matt fly down the stairs, and just like that, Matt was already waiting at the bottom for Foggy.

When they were finally reunited, Matt took possession of the cane and soon, they were in a part of campus that was empty of people. Foggy heard Matt hit something with a loud clang.

"There's a bench here," he explained. "Let's sit."

They both felt for their seats, then sat down, Foggy almost sitting on Matt. The two boys sat in silence for a while, smiling after a successful first day as roommates. They talked for a long time, neither realising that it was getting dark. 20 minutes later, Foggy admitted defeat and removed his blindfold, blinking the blackness away even in the darkness of the night. Soon, they were back in their room fell asleep after a tiring day of travel and new friends. Both boys were secretly glad to have each other as roommates. Foggy had expected some jock, while Matt had feared an ableist, disability-hating person. None got what they had expected.


	5. He's your dad?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt's dad turns up randomly the day before lectures starts. Foggy is intimidated. They all laugh it off in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for not writing for such a long time. I've just been very busy. This chapter will be quite a short one.
> 
> Thank you so much to all the people who have left reviews and comments. I strongly encourage fic suggestions!
> 
> Shoutout to Alex, who suggested me writing about Matt's dad, Jack.

"Tomorrow is the day... The day we face our fears... The day we conquer the beast - LAWSCHOOL!" Foggy bellowed at the top of his voice, causing Matt to flinch a little.

"You never cease to be dramatic, Foggy. I'm surprised you're not majoring in drama."

"Not a day passes where I don't think of the possibility. I've even been practicing my singing literally every day since I was five." At that, Foggy started singing a few lines of Pirates of Penzance, his voice filling the room. Matt's face was red with suppressed laughter and his eardrums were pleading to curl up and die, even if it meant being blind and deaf. 

"How was it?" Foggy asked, keeping a completely straight face.

"How was what?" Matt replied, mimicking Foggy's poker face, though his was bright red.

"No, no. The correct answer is 'Wow Foggy, you sound amazing. You should totally pursue a career in acting and opera'!"

"Well, of the two lies, I took the lesser," he said with a shrug.

There was a moment of silence.

"And you've just crushed my dreams. When I'm working some day, and not in an opera house or a movie set, I will remember how my roommate was the one who brought me there." They both collapsed with laughter at Foggy's dramatics, but were interrupted by a sharp knocking on the door.

"I'll get it." Foggy began to make his way there, oblivious to the fact that Matt's expression had completely changed, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion, but a small smile sneaking onto the corners of his lips. He too stood up from his perch on the bed and followed quickly behind Foggy.

"Who's there?" Foggy called. Matt knew very well who it was.

The door swung open, and a very well-built man stood behind it, hand up as if about to knock again. The man was a bit shorter than Matt, with a physique that said 'I punch people for a living and I love it'. Foggy immediately recognised him. "Battlin' Jack? What are you doing here?"

"Matt! It's dad. I'm so glad to see you. I'm sorry I couldn't be here to send you off that day, so I decided to come today before your lectures start." Jack

"It's okay dad. You had a fight, and you're here now." They enveloped in a hug.

"Your dad is Battlin' Jack..." The gears turned in Foggy's head. "Battlin' Jack Murdock! Matt Murdock! How did I not notice that straight away? And he said he was from Hell's Kitchen too."

Before Foggy could continue rambling for the next hour, Matt saved him. "Oh dad, this is Foggy, my roommate. He's great."

"Hi... Foggy?"

"My name is actually Franklin, but I go by Foggy. It sounds much less... er... Frankliny." _Great job Foggy_, a voice in his head said. _You sound really intelligent in front of your roommate's dad, who also happens to be your childhood boxing hero._

"Foggy, nice to meet you. I'm Matt's dad, but you can call me Jack." He gave a smile, trying to look friendly but Foggy had to admit that he looked a bit, no _very_ intimidating.

"Hi, I'm Foggy." _O shit, did I just say that again?_

"Er... hi. Would you boys like to come out and eat lunch? Matt, we've got a little catching up to do. I haven't seen you in a while."

"You mean like two weeks. Yeah, I've got nothing to do now, and I'm sure Foggy is just as free. He'll come along."

Foggy's next sentence left his mouth in the most incoherent way possible, mumbling at about 10 words per second. "Me? Yes I ca-will. I mean I will but I can. Wait, yeah I will but I was going to say can but I said will so it became ca-will. I sort of freak out when I'm nervous and I'm really nervous right now. I mean, my friend's dad is Battlin' Jack and he's just invited me for lunch in a random diner to 'catch up' and it's really intimidating but awesome and oh my god Matt am I saying all this out loud?"

"Yes, Foggy, unless I'm reading your thoughts." Matt turned to his dad. "I think he's a big fan." Foggy opened his mouth to say something but Matt cut him off. "We were just about to get lunch, and you showed up just in time. We're already ready to go." Matt turned and grabbed his cane from its residential space against the wall and followed his dad out the door. Foggy went alongside him, zipping his mouth shut, so embarrassed that his ears were pink.

"It's a really nice room you two have here. It's got a kitchen and everything. Do you cook often?" 

"We've cooked once or twice, but not so much, as we never make it a point to go to the grocery store." Matt answered. 

They left he building and made their way along the sidewalk, Jack's hand brushing against the back of Matt's, a standard procedure they'd been doing ever since Matt was nine. Matt gripped his elbow and they continued walking, Matt holding his cane by his side out of the way.

"So, Foggy, what are you planning on doing?"

"Er... I'm also doing law. Matt and me, um, Matt and I are in a lot of the same classes." 

"That's good, since you're roommates and all." They turned left and exited the university campus. "Stairs."

* * *

Very soon, they were in Will's Diner, happily devouring their food. Matt had really played it off, but he missed his dad. A lot. He couldn't imagine him not being around. Jack had training to do, so after a meaningful conversation throughout lunch, including a "don't get drunk and have sex without knowing it" talk, he headed back, giving Matt one last parting hug (Matt felt he was too old for those but he was glad for it anyway) and exchanging a "see you soon" with Matt's jokey: "You bet I won't" reply.


	6. Shock.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whilst still in college, Matt hears some news. It is the worst news he has ever received.

Lessons were in full swing, and every day, Matt and Foggy trudged back to their room with throbbing minds but hearts full of joy. It was three weeks in when it happened.

"Hey Matt, do you have the worksheet Mr Miller gave us yesterday? I think I lost mine."

"Hmmmm?" Matt said, only half concentrating. He was too busy listening to a bird nesting in a nearby tree. At this lovely time of the year, he could understand why.

"The ten page worksheet due in on Monday, do you have your's? I could always..." Foggy paused. "Never mind I probably can't read it."

Matt snapped out of his dreamy state. "You were saying?" 

"Nothing."

"Okay."

"O hey we're here," Foggy said, detaching his elbow from Matt's hand and dragging his feet up the stairs. He did not understand how mental exertion could lead to this kind of physical exhaustion. It must have been the lack of sleep and overdose of coffee - yes, that was exactly what it was, what with all the studies he had to do and a brain incapable of absorbing one tenth of the information received through his ears... But heck, maybe he was just unfit.

He carried on to the dorm and it was only after a few seconds that he realised his was down one roommate. Instead, he turned around to see said roommate standing in the middle of the corridor, right outside the stairwell, a small and unsettling frown on his face, his head tilted to the side slightly. 

"Matt, you okay buddy?"

After a short pause. "Yeah, I'm fine." He started walking rather quickly towards the dorm, the same expression still on his face.

"If you say so." Foggy didn't know why his friend was acting so weirdly. Was it something he said? Sometimes Foggy would let his mouth run wild but he still couldn't remember anything he had said between leaving their classes to that present moment. He didn't want to push Matt into saying anything he was uncomfortably with.

Unfortunately, that wasn't achieved. His thoughts were cut short by the sight a man standing outside their dorm room, knocking on the door, a similar grave look to Matt's evident on his aged face. He had dark, wrinkled skin and long dark hair tied back into a ponytail. He was quite short but very muscular, with unusually large and calloused hands. The man quickly turned upon noticing Matt and Foggy's presence, biting down hard on his bottom lip. 

"Matty," a rough voice called, "it's Sam."

"What are you doing here?" Matt answered. He could taste the salt in the air from Sam's sweat, could hear his heartbeat escalating, could feel the strong rush of nervousness and sadness emanating from his skin. Sam's breathing picked up even more.

"I need to talk t' you. Alone."

Matt nodded. Inside, he knew that something was not right. What scared him the most was the unmistakable smell of death. But not _death_ in general. It was the smell of someone he knew very well, and he was terrified out of his mind before any words left Sam's mouth.

"Matty, I don know how t'say this. Two days ago somethin happened. It... It... " Sam swallowed hard. 

"Ye dad... He's... He's..." Sam paused, taking in Matt's expression. It was horror, pure horror. His face was pale and his eyes were turning red with the start of tears. His whole body stiffened, and a small shudder spread through him, shaking his shoulders.

"...gone?" Matt's quiet whisper echoed not only through the empty hallway, but in the empty space where his mind usually was. The two stood in silence for a while.

"It was a dirty match, Matty. I'm so sorry."

Tears emerged from Matt's eyes, falling slowly down his face and off his chin, splashing onto the floor with a melancholy, wet, but sharp noise. He turned his face away from Sam, snivelling and pushing his hands under his dark glasses to wipe the tears away. More kept coming. Before long, he was sobbing, the sounds of sadness gurgling from his throat, uneven breaths shaking his chest. Arms wrapped around him, strong and firm, and he melted into them. They felt so much like his dad's, the rough fingers that pressed gently into his back, the hands reassuringly patting - firm, but with so much love - and for once, Matt imagined his father embracing him, telling him it was okay, that he would watch over him from heaven. He pictured sitting with his father at home, newly blinded. _"We're Murdocks, we get hit a lot." "But we always get back up, don't we dad? We always get back up." _

His dad stood there, smiling.

_"Yes Matty, we always get back up."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the timeline a bit, so this could happen when Matt was away from home. This took me quite a while to write, and I'm really sorry for not updating for so long. I had (very important) stuff to do.
> 
> This is a bit short and I'm definitely adding a part 2 at least.


	7. I see fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enraged. Matt is enraged. He can't ignore what had happened. He decides to take action.
> 
> ⠠⠙⠜⠑⠙⠑⠧⠊⠇⠲

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to "HelenTheMoon (Lermis)" for giving me an idea of what to write next. Any other suggestions are welcome - just leave a comment!

Half and hour passed, and Matt entered the room looking more than a bit ruffled. Foggy didn't ask. Matt's eyes were red, puffy and wet, though Foggy could tell he was trying to hide his face by the way he shuffled straight to the bathroom, his back to Foggy. His friend also seemed to have shrunk. His shoulders slumped forward, but they were tensed. Foggy could see a shiver run across his neck briefly before he curled around the doorframe, hidden in the bathroom.

Should he try to comfort Matt? Or make him laugh? Foggy decided that it was best to just leave him alone. From the way Matt was acting, he could tell that something had rattled him more than ever before. His usually calm, confident and charming friend never broke down, and even on the toughest of days, when people ridiculed him, or teachers told him he would never get far, he always had a witty reply up his sleeve, and always, _always_, kept either a straight face or a slightly mischievous grin on at all times.

However, Foggy had already guessed what had happened. It was a simple process of deduction that, while being simple, did not have a simple outcome. 

1) Why was Matt crying?

Because he was sad.

2) Why would Matt be sad?

Because something bad had happened.

3) What bad thing could have happened?

Something serious and sensitive enough for a friend from back home to tell him in private.

4) And what serious, sensitive and private happening could that have been?

Matt could have lost someone he loves.

5) Who does Matt love most in the world?

Foggy stopped there. He hope he was wrong. He hoped that it was because Matt's dog had died or something. Maybe even a more distant relative. Maybe it was happy tears, but no such luck... Foggy knew how much Matt's dad meant to him. From what he knew about Matt's family, his father was all he had. No mother, no grandparents, not even a random uncle most people have. Foggy had even heard about Sam, the guy who was delivering the news. He would just wait for Matt to tell him, and decided to leave him alone.

* * *

Meanwhile, Matt was in the bathroom, curled up in a ball in the corner. He had not even been there when this had happened. Maybe he could have prevented it, used Stick's training to his advantage and actually done something useful with the radioactive shit in his body. But no, here he was, living the cushy life in college while his dad was fighting dirty matches. He made the executive decision. It was time that this Murdock got his hands dirty, and not with dust or grime. He made up his mind. His dad was gone, but the people who killed him weren't. In fact, if he were to go down to Hell's Kitchen any time soon, they might still be there.

Matt wiped the residual tears from his eyes. He stood up from the ground and opened the bathroom door. He walked out and sat at his desk. He opened a textbook. Yes, this was what his dad would want him to do. He would study until night, then his quest would begin. He could feel Foggy's stare from across the room. Foggy's heart rate had quickened, and his breathing gave away his need to say something. 

"What?" That came out a bit too harshly, Matt thought.

"Are you okay? I mean, you..."

"I'm fine, Foggy."

"So nothing happened?"

"No. Nothing happened."

That was the biggest lie Matt had ever told.

* * *

Hours passed, and Matt ran his fingers along his textbook, focusing on the words, yet not obtaining their value. That state of concentration and agitation was interrupted by a soft tap on his shoulder, where he nearly lashed out and punched Foggy in the face. It was reduced to a jump instead.

"Sorry Matt, didn't mean to surprise you. I just got you dinner, that's all. I mean, you skipped lunch, so I figured you'd want something now."

Matt didn't reply.

"So, er, I'll just leave them to your right, about 2 o'clock. They're sandwiches, your favourite kind."

Fingers resumed their journey across braille.

* * *

2am - an untouched sandwich, a closed textbook, a sleeping Foggy. 

Matt slipped into fully black clothes, also grabbing a black scarf that would come in later.

He hadn't done anything like this since Stick. Sure, he had been working out and training on his own, but he was still unprepared. It didn't matter though. He had a purpose tonight, and that purpose was to track down the fools that had murdered his father. That purpose was to make them pay for what they had done. He was determined, and nothing can stop a determined Murdock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this seems a bit rambly or short. I promise I will write more soon. Christmas break is coming, and I will have more time then. 
> 
> Ideas will be accepted from anybody, and I will try to put them into my work. They don't even have to be related to what I've written so far. Innovation is great!


	8. In the Middle of the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt begins using his fists.

The roof under his feet was cold and rough. He had been sitting out there in the freezing cold for an hour, and that was when he heard it. 

“Murdock?”

Matt almost jumped. He sighed in relief when he realised that the man speaking was actually inside the building. He was just completely on edge.

“Sweeny got him good didn’t he?”

Matt’s hands balled into fists. The scarf was tied firmly around the top half of his face. He listened.

“I think Jack must’ve had something to prove,” guy 1 said.

“Nah, he did what he did on purpose,” said guy 2, “Bet all his money on the match.”

“Where’d all that money go?” 

“His kid apparently. Remember? The blind one,” guy 2 continued, “heard he’s got millions.”

Matt swallowed. Sam hadn’t told him any of this. He was beyond shocked. Why would his dad do this? He couldn’t organise his thoughts, but one thing stood strong and clear in his head. His dad lost his life for Matt. The whole thing was pre-planned. Guilt crept up into his head. The guilt turned into anger.

Matt jumped from the roof, onto a fire escape and straight into the building where he heard the two men talking. They were both startled and immediately looked up.

“Who the hell are you?” guy 1 said. He received a kick to the face.

“Who is Sweeny?”

Both men had now drawn guns, only one of which were loaded from what Matt could hear. Guy 1 carried the loaded gun and his muscle tension told Matt that he would be ready to use it any second. In one smooth movement, Matt punched guy 1 in the jaw, twisted his arm behind his back and crushed his hand until he dropped his gun. At the same time, he landed a strong kick on guy 2’s face that sent him into the wall. He then quickly swiped the gun away.

“I’m going to ask you one more time. Who is Sweeny?”

“You’re fucking crazy,” guy 2 said.

“I warned you.” Fists went flying and guy 2 was on the floor, half unconscious.

Guy 1 had drawn a knife and began running up to Matt, swinging it madly through the air, making not a single connection before it was hit out of his grip. He too was slammed into the ground next to his friend.

“Talk.”

Guy 1 drew a breath. “Roscoe Sweeny. He manages some boxing ring. I don’t know. I don’t know him.”

There was the telltale skip of a heartbeat, followed by the accelerated low thumps. “You’re lying.” A punch landed on his nose. Blood flowed.

“Wait! Stop! I swear I don’t know!”

“Try again.” The sound of fists against flesh continued.

“Fine! Fine! I’ll tell you what you want to know! Just stop!”

Matt stopped.

The man gulped deeply. “Roscoe Sweeny, also known as the Fixer. He organises matches. Dirty matches. People are paid a lot of money to lose. But he gains way more.”

“What about Battlin’ Jack?”

“Sweeny paid him to lose in a match against Creel, but he didn’t.”

“And…”   


“Sweeny got angry. He’d paid Murdock to lose, not to win and run away with the money. He had to do something.”

“So he murdered him.”

“Murdock chose that for himself. It’s not hard to lose a match. All for the better though, Murdock was already dropping out of fighting state. Those young ones like Creel would be beating him easily in less than a month.”

“Where can I find Sweeny?” It came out barely audible, in a half-growl.

“You don’t find him. He finds you.”

Damn. He was telling the truth.

Matt heard some footsteps heading their way. Taking all the new knowledge with him, he leapt out of the window and back onto the roof. He had to rush back to the room before Foggy noticed he was missing.

* * *

By the time he was back at his building, he was covered in blood on his face and hands. It was 4am. He made sure no one was around to see him in that state, then he slinked carefully inside. Outside his room, he listened carefully to Foggy's breathing. Shit. Awake. He heard footsteps moving towards the bathroom, then a soft, groggy "Matt?"

He was so screwed. He had never randomly left the room at night before, so Foggy would certainly find this extremely suspicious. He had made sure most of the blood on the bottom half of his face and hands had been wiped off by the scarf (which was now in his bag), but he wasn't entirely sure. To make it even worse, the lights were turned on inside. He heard a small mumbled "shit" from Foggy, followed by the tapping of his phone. He was calling Matt, and his phone was insi.... OH NO. His phone was in his backpack.

He fumbled for it, but he was too late. _Foggy, Foggy, Foggy._ His phone blared out into the soundless night. He silenced it, but it was no use. He could hear Foggy unlocking the door. Ugh. He just had to be right next to the door while calling Matt. Matt had about 2 seconds to figure out what to do. 

The door opened, and he rushed past and straight to the bathroom, making sure his back was towards Foggy the whole time. He locked the door.

"Matt? You okay, buddy?"

In the bathroom, Matt was intensely stripping the clothes off his back and scrambling into the shower. The blood had to come off. His clothes were balled up in the sink, blood already running off them. Throughout his shower, he could hear Foggy outside.

"Matt, what's happening? Are you okay? Why did you go out in the middle of the night? What were you thinking? What were you doing? You weren't even using your cane!"

About an hour later, when everything was all clean and Matt had scolded himself enough, he stepped out of the bathroom and made a beeline to his desk. Of course, Foggy asked him many questions, which could not be avoided.

Their conversation went something like this:

"Matt, what were you doing out?"

"Taking a walk."

"At 4 in the morning? Without your cane?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I was... I couldn't sleep."

"So you decided that, because you couldn't sleep, you would leave the room in the middle of the night to go take a joy walk or something, which could have been potentially super dangerous."

"I didn't go far. Just right outside and back in."

"Then why did you take a shower for an hour when you came back?"

"I... I fell in some mud, okay, Foggy? It was a mistake not bringing my cane, I fell, and I came right back."

Foggy just sighed. He knew something was up, but he had no proof Matt even did anything. Was he taking drugs now? Going to some shady dealer in the middle of the night? If he was, Foggy had to do something about it. But, again, he didn't have proof of anything. He decided that he would just closely monitor his best friend until something happened. He realised Matt wouldn't let him in on anything if he kept pestering, so he settled for this:

"Okay. Be a bit more careful next time."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't really know what to do after this. I don't want to stop though, so please tell me in the comments what direction you want to see this go in.


	9. Move on, Matty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt Moves on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had completely forgotten about this. Now, after what is like years, I am continuing this fic. Must be the quarantine boredom.

_From Foggy's perspective..._

* * *

Monday 2nd Oct

Dear Diary,

Strange things are happening. Matt has been acting all funny, after the sudden news of a tragic event. I wasn't entirely certain of what it was until now.

Last night, the room was sweltering. I lay in bed and slowly drifted off to sleep. It was probably 20 minutes later when I was awoken by a loud scream, coming from right across the room. It was Matt. He was screaming about his dad, how he wanted him to come back, how he missed him.

I probably should have gone over to comfort him, or help him get through this, but I don't know what came over me because I sat in my bed, eyes wide, heart beating fast. I didn't help my best friend. Why? I don't know. I'm not usually the type who will stand back and watch tragedies unfold. I guess Matt just needs his private time.

Signing off, 

F. Nelson

* * *

Saturday 7th Oct

Dear Diary,

Nothing much has changed. Roomie is still out of it. I hope he's not on drugs. I can't smell or see any, but it has been three times already that he has come back to the room late at night and rushing into the bathroom. I'm 100% certain that nobody, no matter how clumsy (or blind) can fall into mud four days in a row. Something's up.

Aside from all this, he's barely eating. I'm basically force-feeding him and I don't know if he notices me putting more food on to his plate when he's not paying attention.

This wounded duck is actually wounded.

From Foggy,

To Foggy.

* * *

Sunday 8th Oct

Dear Diary,

Breakthrough! We had a conversation. It went somewhat like this:

Me: Hey Matt, you okay? 

(He was sitting on the floor with a non-brailled book pretending to read. It was reasonable to ask.)

Matt: I'm fine.

Me: Whatcha reading?

Matt: Book.

(He ran his fingers over the book, then realised his mistake)

Matt: Shit. Sorry, I'm thinking.

Matt: Of classes.

Me: What's on your mind?

Matt: ...

Me: Anything worrying you?

......

And then we had a whole entire intimate talk about everything. He spilled, I cried, we both cried and now Matt seems okay. 

He still doesn't explain why he goes out at night though, so I'm still suspicious. Best case scenario - a girl? Before 'the tragedy', (as I like to call it in my head) he was snuggling up to a Greek girl in his Spanish class. I really hope this is what's happening every time he leaves. If he exits while I'm awake one day, I'll probably try to follow him - not being invasive or anything- just because I'm worried.

I'm writing this while Matt is in Church

G'night,

FoggyN.

* * *

Thursday 12th Oct

Dear Diary, 

Haven't written for a while. Every day has been the same. Although he acts pretty normal during the day, Matt is looking super sleep deprived. Must be because he's going out all night every night. I'm going to catch him somehow. I think he goes out at about 4am, once he knows I'm asleep. I tried to set an alarm, but when I woke up, he was still there pretending (I think) to be asleep, like he knew. 

Wtf am I going to do. I feel like a shitty roommate, which I am.

FoggyN.

* * *

Thursday 19th Oct

Dear Diary,

He's skipping classes. He never skips classes. He is definitely the most self-disciplined person I've ever seen in my life. Also, I think he's mostly over the grief stage. He just seems distracted all the time now, or angry. I also think I saw going into the main part of the city during the day. What he is doing must be very important to him. Again, hoping it is a girl. Maybe?

Probably last entry in a while,

FoggyN.

* * *

* * *

_MATT_

Matt thinks its October. Twentieth? Nineteenth? He didn't know. He didn't care. He had almost got to Sweeny. So close, yet so far. He had even gone down to the Kitchen during the day to see if he was there, but he was constantly disappointed. Now, this night, he had gone out only to be told that Sweeny had to gone to somewhere nobody knew about, possibly some remote island where they used coconuts as phones.

It was then when Matt realised that he was completely disobeying everything his father had told him. His father - whose death was the reason he was putting himself in so much harm to do everything he was doing. He was completely behind in class, not focusing in the lessons he went to and skipping most of the lessons anyway. His studying was superficial, as all he could think about was the man who had murdered his father.

Matt wanted to kill him. Matt was terrified that he wanted to kill him. An eye for an eye and all, but every time Matt envisioned breaking every bone in the body of that corrupt, evil man, he thought of God and most importantly, of his father.

_"Don't be like me Matty. I fight, and look where it's gotten me. Bloody. Use that oversized brain of yours. You can take on the world."_ _ Jack ruffled 12-year-old Matt's hair. _

_"Law school, Matty! Law school! And a scholarship too! Colombia College! Wow! You have no idea how proud I am of you, maybe I have done something right after all." Jack exclaimed when they had received their acceptance letter to Colombia Law school._

_"Remember: Use your head, not your fists."_

After weeks of anger and grieving, maybe it was time for Matt to move on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confusing, I know. I wrote half of this about a year ago. I completely didn't know what I was getting at so I just took it in a totally different direction.


	10. Normal again?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The whole shock is over and everything is back to normal. Or is it?
> 
> ⠙⠁⠗⠑⠙⠑⠺⠊⠇

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everybody who is still reading. It is a great pleasure.

2 weeks had passed since the biggest shock of Matt's entire life. He would rather get blinded 10 times over than to experience his father's death, but _'b__ad things happened to everybody'_, he thought, _'and not everybody has a choice'_. He felt that his life was now a cheesy support group, where all he constantly found things he was grateful for. He made a list in his head:

  1. He still had a full ride to Colombia
  2. He had a large amount of money in his bank account (even though that gift was a double edged sword as it hurt Matt to think of what his dad went through just for him)
  3. He had the best best friend on the face of the Earth

Foggy stood innocently in the kitchen whilst Matt continued to make the imaginary list in his mind. He was cooking something - though what he was cooking remained unknown. It seemed he had thrown a combination of leftover takeaway, pasta and ketchup into a pan, a suspicious smell wafting its way across the room to Matt's sensitive nose. Something was definitely bad, and the pasta he put into the pan was undercooked.

"Foggy?" Matt called.

"Yeah," came the response.

"What are you cooking?"

"Dinner. It'll be ready in about 15 minutes if I don't burn everything. If I do, I'll most likely eat it anyway."

"Smells a bit off. Is there takeaway in there?"

"How'dyou know?" Foggy asked through a taste of uncooked pasta. "It seems fine to me, not yet slimy or giving off any bad smells."

Matt knew better, but from what he could tell about the food in the large metal pan, it wasn't going to be harmful to either of them, some mild stomach discomfort at the worst.

"How you doing?" Foggy said, his heart rate speeding up slightly with concern, nervousness and a bit of anxiety.

"Fine, just got some catching up to do."

He sat in silence for a while, listening to Foggy's soft talking to himself - a habit he had when he was uneasy. Matt couldn't usually understand what he was saying, however, as his words usually came out in a mess, with disappearing syllables, mashing words together and completely no audible sounds towards the end of sentences. This time though, Matt heard him say: "Glad he's ____, maybe we can ____. SHIT!"

A slight steamy smell rose from a patch on Foggy's hand. "Damn metal pans with metal handles," he muttered under his breath. 

Matt got up, making his way over to the kitchen. "What happened?" He played dumb.

"Touched the pan handle. I'm pretty sure I have a third degree burn." He gave an awkward laugh.

"Go run it under some water and don't be so dramatic. I'll finish cooking." Matt grabbed a damp cloth from beside the sink and tentatively reached out to where he could detect the heat emulating from the fire and from the also very hot pan. His fingers, protected by the cloth, grasped the hot handle.

The warmth spread over his fingers. The feeling reminded him of the many times he would cook dinner for him and his dad (Jack Murdock wasn't the best cook) and brought it over to the tiny square dining table where they would eat and chat lightly about what happened that day, or just ate in silence. Emotion gripped at his heart, but he couldn't show it.

Foggy, however, his hand stuck under a stream of cool water, seemed to sense something wrong.

"Are you sure you're fine?" he asked, still a bit concerned that Matt would begin his _not talking not eating not sleeping_ stage agin.

"I'm fine." Matt cautiously gripped the wooden cooking spoon in his other hand, stirring around the contents of the pan, which moved in large hard clumps; an attempt to change the subject: "Are you sure this is edible?"

Foggy got the hint and put on a large grin. "Yeah! I searched it up. Food can last in the fridge for seven days. It's been five days - we can actually leave it in there for 48 hours more. I'm doing actual math here. Scientific math. You can't argue with this, buddy!" He threw his arms up into the air. "I just threw my arms up in the air. Foggy Nelson has won the debate!"

"Okay."

Foggy was expecting Matt's usual witty smart alec answers. Something was definitely a bit wrong.

"Okay," Foggy replied, turning the tap off and taking the pan from Matt. "Let's eat and watch Star Wars and it'll be great."

They spent the night watching The Empire Strikes Back, because it was (according to Foggy) the best - not limited to Star Wars - movie ever. They ate the slightly disgusting food and laughed at Foggy's narrations. Matt forgot what had happened just 5 weeks ago for a while, thanks to his friend. He could never be so grateful for Foggy being there through all of this.

He went to bed happy and satisfied, with the weight of the world lessened on his shoulders.

* * *

It was very early in the morning when he heard it. Downstairs. Outside his apartment building. A voice so pleasant and smooth in an exotic foreign accent - French? Greek? Matt couldn't place it. The subtle smell of floral perfume rose from her skin along with a hint of expensive tequila from her lips. She was a complete contrast to the other girls laughing around her - loud and reeking of dollar-store perfume - yet, Matt's senses cut right through them and focused on the one girl's hushed voice, as she stood observing her friends, her heartbeat strong and calm.

Matt didn't even realise he was sitting up in bed, listening so closely to the girl's every movement - politely waving goodbye to her friends, high heels clicking down the sidewalk to the apartment next to his. He could almost feel her long hair as it brushed against her back, slender fingers brushing stray strands behind her ears.

However, the sounds and smells of her faded from HD to medium quality as she entered the apartment building, and eventually, Matt felt he was being invasive as she kicked off her heels, pulling off her tight-fitting dress and replacing it for a large comfortable t-shirt. He lay back down, slowly drifting back to sleep.

The girl was a mystery for another day.


	11. The Greek Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Matt's senses were drawn to the girl from that night. Her presence made him forget for a few moments of his grieving. They don't manage to meet yet, but he has a nice chat with Foggy who has some connections. Potential meeting next chapter.
> 
> ⠠⠑⠇⠑⠅⠞⠗⠁⠀⠠⠝⠁⠞⠉⠓⠊⠕⠎

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: there is a mention of the word "porn" but nothing inappropriate tied to it, just a little reference to the series if you're a knowing fan.
> 
> Also, I am realising that I am writing years after the end of Daredevil on Netflix, but we all know that we are hoping for a season 4 (highly unlikely) or another appearance of this hero on another platform. Never lose interest though, the characters all have so much volume and depth so I am exploring each of them one by one.

Foggy woke up to see a very awkwardly-placed roommate, sleeping in a semi sitting position, a small smile on his face. That reassured him, especially since most mornings he would find Matt with the trace of a tear down his cheek, his face buried in his pillow, or the worst - not sleeping at all and studying/gone somewhere on campus instead. Today, it felt like any other day before the thing that happened (Foggy didn't know what to call it) where his roommate just woke up from a good dream.

Matt, in fact, did wake up from a good dream; or rather no dreams at all, which qualified as good. The night before brought a distraction, both from his amazing wonderful irreplaceable best friend, but also from the short snippet of the girl outside his window. Both these things had helped Matt to realise that he was beginning to move on, to something more mentally healthy for him and also something that would make his dad proud. He was still going to remember Jack for the rest of his life, but now he was going to focus on doing good for himself, as his father always wanted. He could still imagine his heart-warming laugh and proud words as basically everybody in his block and a few blocks around found out that blind Matt Murdock was going to Colombia on a scholarship. 

"Morning, sunshine," Foggy called out.

"Who even talks to sunlight anymore?"

A small snicker escaped Foggy's lips. "I'm sure you would like to know that today is an exceptionally sunny day, which is an exceptionally rare occurrence fully deserving of formal address. And, it would be very rude of you to not pay respects to the light that grows your vegetables."

"You have to admit that was at least a bit anticlimactic," Matt retorted. After some silence from Foggy, he begrudgingly added, "We are very grateful for your rays that help our vegetables grow" and for the fun of it, doing a little mock bow to a part of the room where he could sense there was no sunlight at all.

Foggy burst out laughing. "We are preschoolers. And by the way, I don't know if you did that on purpose, but you just did your incredible comedic act to a place with no light at all."

"No light perception, remember?" Matt said through a grin.

Foggy suddenly had a thought. "You should add comedy to your future lawyering. Heck, we can both do it!" He put on a deep, fake TV announcer voice. "Matthew Murdock and Franklin Nelson, the lawyers who occasionally engage in comedy."

Matt cut in: "The comedians who occasionally engage in comedy."

They both collapsed laughing. It was the weekend, and there was plenty of time for that.

"I wonder what lawyers can get away with putting in their speeches."

"Hmm," Matt said thoughtfully. "Well, technically they can say anything, if they make it a metaphor or a simile or something like that."

"A metaphor or simile or something like that?"

"Yeah, I bet you can get away with literally anything. For example, this evidence is a ray of sunshine spotlighting the true conclusion of the our, proving that our client is innocent." After a pause, "that was a bad example, but you know what I mean."

"Yeah," Foggy said, nodding, "But what about something obscene. Something like... Like..." He thought for a moment. "Like porn."

There was a short air of silence as Matt thought of a response. "Porn. You know when you see it."

"Why does that sound like some sort of cheesy advertisement slogan."

"Maybe it is."

"When you become a fancy lawyer person, I dare you to use that."

"Oh believe me, I will."

"Haha I doubt so."

Without warning, a gust of wind blew into their window, hitting the glass, but allowing a little air through the cracks in the window. There it was. The smell of Jasmine perfume and a natural fragrance so sweet it was driving Matt out of his mind. He extended his senses further, finding the light pattering of flats on concrete, the sound like calming drops of rain on a tiled roof. He heard the swish of long, smooth hair as it whipped against a bare back. Then came the pleasant voice, soothing and floating off the tip of her tongue.

His trance was interrupted by the sharp voice of his roommate.

"Hello! Matt to Earth, Earth to Matt."

"Hello, Foggy."

"Wow you just zoned out. I am confused whether to be concerned or confused. Oh wait, I'm already confused. What's on your mind other than the inappropriacies that our future careers may bring?"

"Oh, nothing. I was just wondering." Matt bit his lip for a second. "There is this girl. I bumped into her before on campus."

"Do I know her?"

"That's what I'm hoping to find out. Er... How do I describe her. She's got long hair, a really nice voice and a cool accent - like Greek or French or something."

"And..."

"Er....... She smells nice?"

"Okay... For the record, I don't go around smelling people but I guess that's something you do. Long hair - so many girls have long hair. I was just about to ask you what colour, but I see a flaw there somewhere."

"Haha, yeah, blind. You know any Greek girls on campus? There can't be many."

"No. OH, waitasecond. Yes! There's this girl in our class - tall blonde Amazon-like law student who loves her pencil skirts - Marci. She's gorgeous by the way. Anyway, I was talking to her the other day and after our little conversation, I overheard her talking with her other friend who was telling her about this new girl who just arrived on campus at such a weird time in the middle of the year. Apparently she came from a Greek island or something and she's totally rich. Oh, and apparently she's super hot as well. Marci was saying that she'd be having boys climbing over her the moment her existence was made known, which she also said wasn't long, because that girl has something about attracting attention."

"Oh."

"Nononono, Matt. You should totally get this girl. You are totally in the league of _super __hot people._" Foggy wiggled his fingers in the air as he said that. "I just did air quotes for super hot people because I hate to break it to you buddy, but you are super hot, in a very ungay way."

"Hmm, I'd like to meet her I guess. I always look for someone I like listening to." Matt seemed to not be listening to Foggy's compliments.

"Oooo I have an idea. I'll ask Marci to ask her friend to ask the Greek girl if she is interested."

"No! That's too... Too direct."

"Okay, then I'll ask Marci to ask her friend to ask the Greek girl to eat lunch or with her. Then, we'll just happen to be there in the same place at the same time."

"Not a bad idea. Actually a pretty good idea. I just hope that Marci's friend knows the Greek girl well enough to eat lunch together."

"Don't worry, Matt. Marci is the queen of connections and persuasion. If she wants to eat lunch with somebody, she can do that easily. We can do this tomorrow, after church? For lunch and Marci can text us the details once they are in position."

"That sounds like a fine spy mission."

"Yes! You wallow in my genius!" Foggy bellowed triumphantly, theatrically slamming down the empty cup of coffee in his hand on to the table. "This is great! I feel like a proud mom, but I don't think that moms set up dates for their children." He put on a high-pitched mom voice. "Would you like some cereal, honey?"

"Yes please, mom. Thank you."

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave comments on my work, as I always want to improve. Also leave suggestions of new characters or scenes you want involved and I'll happily write them!


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